


I Was Not Expecting This

by questionsleftunanswered



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, WIP, Wholock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-10
Updated: 2011-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-24 11:27:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionsleftunanswered/pseuds/questionsleftunanswered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor shows up on the steps of 221b Baker Street and has nothing but problems in his wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Visit

**Author's Note:**

> This is currently a work in progress so please bear with me.
> 
> Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and The Doctor are not mine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor gets Sherlock and John swept up in his chase across London.

“John get the door,” Sherlock called. He was propped up on the couch, nose buried in the latest cold case he had been able to swipe from the Yard. John shot him a “do it yourself you wanker” look before getting up and going downstairs.

“Are you expecting someone?” John called up.

“No. Who is it?” Sherlock replied, bored already with the lackluster interruption.

John came up the stairs, “I don’t know who he is.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He’s still waiting outside. Wouldn’t tell me what his name was.”

“That’s rubbish, John. Of course he has a bloody name!”

“Really? Is ‘The Doctor’ an actual name then?”

Sherlock stopped reading the case file. He set it down on the couch and looked up at John. He was standing there, obviously agitated.

“John, may I have tea?” Sherlock stood from the couch. He gave John a quick kiss before going down to the door, not waiting for an answer.

John just shook his head and went in to the kitchen to make three cups of tea and wondering who “The Doctor” was.

Sherlock opened the door. It was like he had never left. Same bowtie, same tweed jacket, same lopsided smile, the fez was new.

“I’m back!” He said and swept into the flat. The Doctor darted up the stairs two at a time.

“DOCTOR!” Sherlock roared, following closely behind him, “Just what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing in my flat? What the hell are you doing in my time stream.”

“Bit of a farewell tour,” was his only answer, “Ahh who is this?” The Doctor was looking over John. He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and gave a very startled John a once over.

“Well he’s definitely human,” The Doctor extended his hand, “Hello, I’m The Doctor.”

“So I’ve heard. Tea?” John thrust a hot cup into The Doctor’s hands and looked at Sherlock. “Sherlock, a word?”

“Oh! Sherlock. Is that what you’re calling yourself these days? I guess it fits. It’s better than ‘Robert Adler*’ that was a rubbish name to choose, though Vienna was gorgeous.” The Doctor took a seat and gave a small wave as John dragged Sherlock into the hall.

“Who is that? And why does he think you were a physicist.” John gave him a puzzled look.

“We used to … travel a bit. I used to call myself different things. I like Sherlock best.”

“Travel? Travel where? I didn’t know you had ever been to Vienna.”

“Went to university for a bit there. Nothing important.” Sherlock looked down at his boyfriend, “The Doctor is … special. All you need to know is that I’m staying here with you.” Sherlock gave John one of his rare genuine smiles and took his hand.

When they re-entered their flat, The Doctor was nowhere to be seen.

“Doctor?” Sherlock called, taking his own cup of tea and seating himself back on the couch.

The Doctor’s head poked around the corner, “Nice place you have! You do realize that one bedroom is filled with funny jars of things right?”

“Don’t touch anything.” Sherlock picked up the case file again and began reading. John took a seat next to him and rested his head against Sherlock’s thigh, ankles hanging over the opposite end.

After a moment, it dawned on The Doctor. “Oh! You two are …”He waved his hand back and forth between the pair.

“Obviously, Doctor. When you’re dropped me off in the twenty-first century with no money and no place to live, a flat share is a good step. I just got luckier than most. But you would know all about getting luckier than those around you.”

“Yes, well, good for you.”

“Wait,” John looked up from under the manila folder, “Dropped off in the twenty-first century? What do you mean?”

“Remember how I told you we travel? Yes, well I meant through time and space.” Sherlock said nonchalantly.

“Time and space?! That would’ve been good to mention sometime!” John sputtered, “Oh yeah, we can live together and be together for two years, but did I mention I have a mate who can travel through time and space?”

“You never asked,” Sherlock stated.

“Never asked.” John shook his head and glanced back towards The Doctor, “So who is the bloke?”

“More dangerous than Mycroft and smarter than myself.”

“Really now?”

“Yes. Don’t get mixed in with him, please.”

“You know I am sitting right here,” The Doctor pointed out, “John, you can just ask me these things yourself I you wanted to.”

“Fine then,” John raised his chin slightly, “Who are you? And don’t tell me ‘The Doctor’ I want more than that.”

“I’m a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I am currently 930 years old. I travel through time and space in my TARDIS. That should be enough to be getting on with.”

John needed a minute to take it all in. Then he just nodded, accepting it as the truth. “Right. Then how do you know Sherlock?”

“Oh we go way back,” The Doctor grinned eagerly, “I knew your little boyfriend when he was just a baby. His dad and I were mates. I promised to take him to see the stars. When Sherlock was twenty, I showed him the universe.”

John needed another minute to think about this new information. Again he gave only a nod.

“Right, you seem to be taking this well.” The Doctor grinned again and clapped a hand over Sherlock’s knee.

“So how are you? How long has it been since I dropped you off here? Sorry about being a few years off, by the way. I hope it wasn’t too big of a shock to your family. Jackie didn’t take the year hiatus terribly well.”

“I was fine,” was Sherlock’s curt reply, “You were only two years off. I’ve been here for five, now.”

“I’ve known you for three years and you never bothered to mention this?” John asked, not accusing, just curious.

“Clearly I didn’t tell you.”

The Doctor stood and looked about awkwardly, “I suppose I’ll go. There’s supposed to be a brilliant supernova inside the pull of a black hole in about,” he raised his watch, “two apple twenty-four acorn.”

“Right, bye then, Doctor. Thanks for dropping by. Hope you don’t miss the supernova.” Sherlock began rushing The Doctor out.

There was a brilliant flash of light and the electricity was knocked out.

“Oh, finally! I’ve been waiting for that to happen.” The Doctor already had his sonic screwdriver out and was flicking it about the flat in search of something he only knew. “Gotcha!” He turned around triumphantly.

“Care to share with us of lesser minds what you seem to have ‘got’,” Sherlock asked, his voice layered with loathing, curiosity, and discordance.

“No, not really. Nothing that concerns you, I can handle it. Bye now!” The Doctor started towards the door. Sherlock reached out and grabbed his arm. John saw a level of respect and sincerity that he had only ever had directed towards himself. John didn’t know why this bothered him so much.

“Fine, fine. There is sort of a single weeping angel roaming around and I’m not sure why. They usually travel in at least pairs, but this one is all alone. I was back keeping tabs on Torchwood’s growth after Victoria when I saw someone wearing denim and a Smiths t-shirt.”

“Right, single weeping angel claiming Londoners and sending them to old-Torchwood era.” Sherlock pulled The Doctor further into the flat. “Please let me help. I can help you.”

John noticed that he wasn’t included in this offer of help.

After a moment’s consideration, The Doctor smiled, “Sure. How about it? One last run, eh?”

Sherlock simply nodded and claimed his seat on the couch. He steepled his fingers under his chin and began to think.

The Doctor sat once again in John’s armchair and mimicked the detective’s position.

John rested his head against Sherlock’s thigh. Trying his hardest to understand and contribute something to the investigation. After all, this was just another case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Robert Adler was a real physicist. (Dec. 4, 1913 – Feb. 15, 2007). Held a Ph.D. in physics from the University of Vienna.


	2. An Unexpected Jump Through Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and john find themselves swept up in the world that The Doctor has to offer. Chasing after a Weeping Angel of the past.

The Doctor had been living in the flat with them for two days. He and Sherlock had drawn maps and marks where the people had been taken and where they ended up. They had diagrams tapped up on the wall recording the Angel’s movements. The Doctor kept calling it “Angel Bob” ad insisting that they had met before.

“Would angels abandon one of their own? Like falling behind the pack? Or would it abandon its pack?” John asked, standing before the wall covered in papers and information.

“I already though of that, angels are not animals. They’re alive, they function in groups similar to a family. Would you just up and leave your entire family?” The Doctor asked.

“No, but Sherlock obviously did.” John pointed out.

“That was different. At the time, I was assured that I would be able to return as if I had only been gone for ten seconds.” Sherlock butted in, stepping into John’s personal space.

“I’m sorry! I told you it was just the wrong final digit. It was a typo!” The Doctor said, facing Sherlock, “Are you going to hold that against me forever?”

“Yes.” Sherlock said and turned away from the Time Lord dismissively.

“Unless he fell through a hole.” The Doctor whispered and began rapidly scanning the information to find the point when the angel appeared in London.

“Sorry, what kind of hole?” John asked.

“A hole in time. If the angel was in the future and just happened to fall through a hole in time, then that would explain why it is by itself. There!” He jabbed a paper with his pointer finger. It rested on March 13. “That’s when it appeared.”

“It sent every victim exactly 132 years into the past. They are all ending up somewhere during 1879.” Sherlock said, “The angel could have fallen through sometime during the year 2143 and is trying to signal its cluster into realizing what year it is stuck in.”

“Brilliant, a weeping angel distress signal; You’re brilliant, Sherlock!” The Doctor was grinning ear to ear, running over and throwing on his jacket. “C’mon you two, into the TARDIS!”

John and Sherlock barely had time to grab their coats before The Doctor had flung open the door to 221B and was striding across the street towards a giant blue police box that John had never noticed before.

The Doctor pushed open the door. John was wondering how cramped it was going to be when Sherlock pulled him into an impossible room.

It was brilliantly lit. A console in the center whirled and cried as The Doctor spun about it, pulling levers and pressing buttons.

“She missed you, Sherlock.” The Doctor said before disappearing around the corner of the center column again.

“As I her,” Sherlock took a seat to the side and patted beside him, offering it to John.

John calmly sat down and leaned over to whisper in Sherlock’s ear, “It’s bigger on the inside.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Alright.”

“So the year 2143, and a weeping angel falls through a hole in time and lands in 2011 London,” the Doctor stated.

“Where did he fall through?” John asked.

“That is the big question isn’t it! We have to find where it was before it ended up in your time stream and then figure out how to get it back.”

“Excellent,” Sherlock said, “Now where to begin.”

“London!” The Doctor said. The TARDIS gave a loud groan and then settled, the capacious room fell silent.

“Are you ready to see the future, John?” Sherlock said, smiling down. He gave John a kiss, interrupted after a moment by The Doctor’s very obvious clearing of his throat.

“How do you manage to breathe?” He asked, looking genuinely curious.

“I’ll explain it to you sometime.” Sherlock said, taking John’s hand and stepping through the doors.

John doesn’t know what he was expecting, but this was not it.

It was as though he had just stepped into Shakespeare’s time. There were people everywhere dressed in hoop skirts and other period dress.

Then a man walked past dressed as a knight straight out of The Canterbury Tales and John noticed that not everyone was dressed from the past. Many were wearing familiar clothes, denim and t-shirts. Others were wearing something that very closely resembled plaster.

“How are you doing?” Sherlock asked, ducking his head so only John could hear him.

“I’m alright. Nothing I can’t handle.” John replied, following Sherlock into the fray of people; the Doctor following close behind.

“We need to find statues, any statues.” The Doctor said.

“I know. I’m not daft.” Sherlock and John replied.

They reached a marketplace that was circular; every two feet stood a statue resembling the Renaissance interpretation of a cherub.

“Babies?” John asked, “The thing we’re looking for is a statue of a baby?”

“A cherub, John. Not just any statue, a weeping angel. They’re only statues while you’re looking at them, but when you look away they come alive and send you back to a different time period to ‘live to death’,” stated the Doctor, matter-of-factly.

“Brilliant. Creepy statue of a cherub wants to make everyone life to death. Sounds exciting at least.”  
They stood in the center of the bustling marketplace, backs to each other. The air was filled with the smell of apples and sweat.

“Apple grass,” said The Doctor as if he had read John’s mind, “It smells like apples because of the apple grass.”

“Naturally,” was John’s curt reply.

A few hours passed and they took to wandering around. John realized that the future was nothing as he had expected. There were no aliens walking about asking for a leader and there were no hover cars zooming over-head. It was much like the world he had just left. There were a few significant differences, though; one being the apple grass, apparently an environmental experiment gone horribly right. Another was the fact that everyone seemed to dress like they had just stepped out of the folds of a book. Some were wandering about in theater costumes, others had very stereotypical futuristic outfits on. John even saw one woman who had green skin dressed as the Wicked Witch of the West.

There were large TVs on every corner, and enough Vote Saxon posters to wallpaper all of Downing Street. John realized that he had not seen a petrol station for miles.

“What runs the cars?” John asked.

“Solar power. There was a solar flare about 25 years ago and they harnessed the energy. One flare runs every car in England.”

The sun began to set and they bought a room adjacent to the marketplace circle. The inn was on Baker Street. The Doctor flopped on the bed, complaining about how much time he had spent in the right order between Baker Street in the past and Baker Street in the future.

“John, do you want to go get tea?” Sherlock asked, leaving his coat on and idling by the door.

“Yes, very much yes,” John said and followed Sherlock out and into the square. It was still claustrophobic, but not nearly as many people as there had been in the afternoon when they had first arrived. John took a deep breath of air and followed Sherlock to the little café across the circle. It looked exactly like the one that Van Gogh had painted.   
They ordered tea and biscuits, John smiled and thought to himself that some things never change. The world can jump a hundred years into the future, but the British must have their tea and biscuits.

The dim light from the café glanced off of Sherlock’s sharp, pale face. Every slight wrinkle shone across his face.  
Sherlock noticed him looking and smiled at John, “Need something?”

John continued staring, not bothered enough to be embarrassed, “I like everything.”

He almost said that he loved, but stopped himself. They had been together two years, it was understood that they loved each other. Neither had ever said it though. It was something they didn’t want to wear out.

“How many rooms does the blue box have?” John asked, taking a sip of his tea and watching a woman do by dressed as a diamond.

“A bunch, I’m not exactly sure the number. I wonder if my bedroom is still there or if it has been deleted.”

Sherlock set his empty tea cup down. He reached his hand across and clasped it around John’s. “Are you angry that I didn’t tell you about The Doctor? If you’d like, I can ask him to just take us home and be done with the angels.”

“We can’t just leave him. Besides, I will never again get to see 2143.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

They walked back to the TARDIS. The Doctor was nowhere to be seen. Sherlock dug into his lapel pocket and withdrew a small gold key on a matching chain.

“Hope this still works.” He fit the key into the TARDIS’s lock and twisted it to the right. There was an audible click and Sherlock pulled the door towards himself, waiting for John to go in before pulling it shut behind them.

They tossed their jackets on the seat beside the console.

“Do you want to see the rest of her?” Sherlock asked.

“Of course I do. Are there other rooms besides bedrooms?”

“A few kitchens, the garden, I think he had a ‘junk room’ full of knick-knacks. There’s a wardrobe room, a library. I’m not entirely sure where the pool is now; the TARDIS likes to move things around a bit. There should still be a room that contains a small race of people who were relocated from Bath.”

“Bath in England?”

“No, Bath the planet.”

“Obviously, Bath the planet.”

“Yes, they were all kicked off when the Starship Enterprise found the planet. No one knew they were there when the ship landed.”

“Wait, the Enterprise is real?”

“It’s not from Earth. I think the Enterprise was originally build somewhere around the Larg* constellation.”

“Larg?”

“It’s rather far from here.”

“Right, well, lead the way. I do expect this to end at your room, by the way. I’m quite tired.”

“As you wish.”

Sherlock started off to the right of the console and led John down along corridor covered in pictures of serial killers from earth.

Naturally, thought John, Sherlock’s room would be at the end of a corridor papered with murderers.

“I hope you don’t mind my skipping straight to my room,” Sherlock said, “You did mention being tired.”

“No, not at all,” John said.

Sherlock opened the door with a flourish and stepped inside. The room was about the side of their flat. Directly across from the door was a table laden with chemistry equipment; some general and sixth form materials, some was advanced St. Bart’s level.

“Impressive. I suppose I was expecting no less,” John said. He stepped inside.

To his right was a large four poster bed with deep emerald dressings. To his left was a kitchen and a door that led to what he assumed was a bathroom. It was like being in a one-story flat.

“Do you want pyjamas?” Sherlock asked, striding towards a set of double doors.

“Yes, please,” John said. He picked out a pair of plain navy shorts and a white v-neck.

Sherlock waited until he was changed to press against him, “You know you won’t really be needing those.” He whispered in John’s ear.

John swiveled around to meet his gaze, “Really now?”

Sherlock only smirked and dipped his head to give John a lingering kiss, suggestive of how he intended for them to spend their night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Larg – Albanian for “far.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am currently also working on a series and a few other things so thank you ahead of time for your patience!


End file.
